


Tender Hearts

by RelocatedBreathMints



Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, Canon Compliant
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-09-27
Updated: 2019-09-27
Packaged: 2020-10-29 13:03:31
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 856
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20797073
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/RelocatedBreathMints/pseuds/RelocatedBreathMints
Summary: Post barbecue feels from Patrick's perspective. This scenario has been done well by others, but I thought I'd offer my take.





	Tender Hearts

**Author's Note:**

> Very literally my first piece of writing since high school, so why not offer it to the masses for judgement. No beta, written in an afternoon. Please forgive what I can only imagine are copious grammatical errors. Kindness is much appreciated.

Finally, with the door shut behind him, Patrick can let go. Tears that were building earlier, and threatened as he made his excuses to Ray downstairs, now spill easily over his lower lids. One, two, then a cascade of sobs escape his tight throat. Giving in to the crashing waves of emotion he had with herculean strength tamped down back at the motel, he cries. 

Chest heaving, knees weak, he leans back against the door and slides to the floor. Resting his elbows on his pulled up knees, he leans forward pressing the heals of his balled up fists into his eyes and cries like he hadn’t since he was a small boy. Raking his fingers back through his hair, pulling tightly on the back of his neck, he tries to push away the thoughts circling persistently. Why?Why didn’t he just tell David about Rachel? Why didn’t he tell him she had been texting? Why? None of this matters now, it’s all come to light in the worst possible way.

With a wet sniff, Patrick drops his arms to his sides and pushes himself up off the floor.He catches his reflection in the mirror and hardly recognizes the person looking back. Cheeks wet, nose red, eyes puffy, lashes clumped together with drying tears. As his senses return, he can smell the smoke from the barbecue clinging to his skin and clothes. He is brought right back to the sight of Rachel turning the corner of the motel, hand in hand with Alexis. He can see David’s heart breaking right in front of his eyes. Oh, God.He quickly dashes out of his room to the bathroom and vomits; retching the scant contents of his stomach out into the toilet. What had he done? Swiping the back of his hand across his mouth, he tries to pull himself together.Would David ever forgive him?

With that thought echoing in his head he turns on the shower and strips out of his clothes. Stepping into the small tub, the hot water begins to soothe the tension that had built in his shoulders and back.Leaning his head back he lets the water wash over his face and chest before turning into the stream. He cannot lose David, he needs him to know this, but David said he needed space. How much space, and for how long?

Running a charcoal shampoo bar over his hair, he breathes in the warm scents of nutmeg, patchouli, and orange peel. Six months ago, if he was using a bar of soap in his hair, it was because he ran out of drug store shampoo. Then he met David.Everyday with David had been an adventure of discoveries, both big and small. The thought of moving forward without David was as foreign to him as the person Patrick was before coming to Schitt’s Creek. Could he as easily learn new things about himself on his own, without David and the store?As the last of the soap bubbles circle the drain, Patrick leans his head against the wall with a thud.The store. 

Toweled off and into his favorite soft grey, jersey shorts, Patrick sits on the edge of his bed cell phone in hand. It’s only been a couple of hours since he closed the door to David’s room behind him, he does not want to press, but he needs to reach out. After a few starts and stops he finally settles on one quick text.

_Patrick_: I’ve got the store tomorrow. Take all the time you need.

After tapping send, he optimistically waits for the three dots to appear. They do not.

With a sigh, he places his phone on the nightstand, swings his legs onto the bed and falls back against his pillows. He rolls to his side, scooping up the pillow next to him, and inhales deeply. It still smells faintly of David.Tears start welling again, but he drifts off to sleep before they can flow again in earnest.

Patrick startles awake.How long had he slept?His eyes try to focus in the pitch black room.He’s still on top of the comforter, his arm slung lazily over the pillow beside him.A quiet ping breaks the silence. Rolling toward the nightstand, he fumbles for his cell phone, the screen reveals the time: 2:28am and two texts from David.

_David_: Thank you, Patrick

_David_: <<black heart emoji>>

The black heart emoji had always been a little inside thing between them, representing David’s aesthetic and how David saw himself on his most self-deprecating days. Him sending that small symbol means everything to Patrick. It’s permission to hope that everything will be alright.

Patrick allows a small smile to escape as he feels his heart flutter. He’s going to have the chance to make it up to David, and he will do everything he can to earn his forgiveness. At this moment, at 2:31 in the morning there is only one thing he can do.It’s the first of a list of gestures Patrick has begun to compile in his mind.

_Patrick_: <<blue heart emoji>>

**Author's Note:**

> I've always been partial to the black heart emoji. When everyone seems so in touch with their feelings, I shrug, sorry, dead inside.


End file.
